Reason To Believe
by WeBuiltThePyramids
Summary: They save everybody. Right?


**So. This is the first thing I've written since the election, which has plunged me into another terrible depression, left me scared of my own shadow, and unable to come up with anything that reads better than a toddler draws. I'm not capable of knowing if this is any good at all right now, but it's the first thing I've attempted that I haven't hated. Heidi, you're still getting your Melvester birthday fic, but here's some Waige + Ralph as another belated birthday gift. Sorry for the angst.**

* * *

"Hey, buddy."

Ralph shifted his weight. He clearly heard Walter speaking to him, but he didn't make eye contact.

Walter dropped down in front of him. "Ralph." The boy folded his arms, as if trying to curl within himself, sink into the couch and disappear. "Ralph. You know it was a lost cause. We never had a real chance to save those people." He wanted to reach out and touch Ralph's knee. But Walter knew, perhaps better than anyone, that touching someone like this, in a state like this, might undo any good he was otherwise doing. "Ralph. You're just a boy. But I'm talking to you like you're an adult like me because I know that's the kind of thing you need." He paused, feeling encouraged by how the boy's eyes flickered up to his. It was brief, but it was something. "You knew the math. We had no way of getting done what we had to do in forty minutes. Not even close. But we tried. And that's all we can do, ever, is try. Try to save as many people as possible. We succeed more than the math tells us we should be capable of. But sometimes we fail. And it's discouraging. And disheartening. But we can't let this destroy us. Because there are so many more people out there that need our help. And this isn't your fault. You were incredible out there today, talking to those people. I'm not the best at reading human emotion, but I don't doubt that they believed we would save them until a split second before they died. You'd think that that would have been what your mom did. But it was you. All you. You helped us prepare the solution and you kept them calm. That's something that no one else here could have done. Your value to this team, and to this planet, this _universe_ it's...it can't be measured."

Ralph was silent, still staring forward, just off center of Walter, and the older genius wasn't sure if he'd really heard a word he had said. Then, his voice, his emotional, pain ridden voice. "We're supposed to save everybody."

"You know the statistics on the likelihood of that. All we can do is what's possible. And we do the impossible sometimes. But we can't manage it all the time. And part of being a genius is recognizing that."

"My mom cried."

"I know." She'd gripped his hand and pressed her forehead to his shoulder so hard it had been as painful as accepting that they'd been unsuccessful. Sly had hugged her. Happy and Toby had hugged each other. He could see their pain. But he'd felt Paige's, actually _felt_ hers, and that made it worse. So much worse. "But she knew too, that we were trying to do the impossible."

Walter rose, then lowered himself down onto the couch, on the cushion next to Ralph. "I'm so proud of everything you did today, Ralph."

Ralph looked at him then, tears in his eyes. He scooted closer, and Walter wrapped an arm around his back. Ralph slid his arm across Walter's stomach and buried his head in his chest, his small body shaking as he cried quietly.

Walter sensed another presence in the room, and looked up to see Paige standing in the doorway. She was pale, except for her red eyes, and she looked deflated. One hand was resting over her heart, and the other curled around the bottom of her shirt as if she needed to hold onto _something_.

She took in the sight before her, then crossed the room, silent as the night, and then she was dropping onto the couch, on the other side of Ralph, leaning over. Her arm eased over Ralph and around Walter, hugging the boy between them. Walter felt her ankle hook over his, curling her body in a crescent shape around her son protectively. Walter adjusted his arm from around Ralph to around her, his other hand coming up to rest on Ralph's arm. He dropped his head, stretching his neck down, and kissed the boy's head. He heard Paige crying quietly as she scooted closer.

Ralph craned his neck around to look at her. "It'll be okay, Mom," he said, his voice choked up. "It will be. We're together. The three of us."

Walter felt Paige nod. "I know, baby," she said quietly. "I know."

Walter felt a twinge of guilt, that so much today had turned out horribly, and yet he was finding comfort in the three of them cuddled up together. Ralph nestled between him and Paige, arms around shoulders and stomachs and ankles over ankles. But, he supposed, the dead were dead. The living could mourn, the living _should_ mourn, but ultimately, they had to figure out how to keep on living.

And everyone on the couch had two reasons to keep on living right there with them.


End file.
